


piggy promise

by xioying



Series: anarchist on the dream smp [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dream Smp, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27045949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xioying/pseuds/xioying
Summary: Tommy convinces Technoblade not to spawn a Wither in the middle of the festival.“Pinky promise. Well, it’s more like a piggy promise, isn’t it?”
Series: anarchist on the dream smp [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080539
Comments: 5
Kudos: 204





	piggy promise

**Author's Note:**

> Canon context: Few days before the festival hosted under Schlatt's rule; it was speculated Techno might spawn the two Withers in his possession.

“Wait, wait, Techno, wait – ”

Kicking dust clouds of dirt to cover up the normally hidden entrance to Pogtopia, Tommy hobbled around while trying to face Technoblade. Whatever. No one was going to be trailing them this late at night. He abandoned disguising the entrance, taking small steps towards Techno.

It was dark, but looking at Techno’s hand, Tommy could make them out: the black of three Wither skulls against the wine red of his cloak.

Faint admiration bubbled up in his chest. (Techno really was a monster of his own kind, wasn’t he? Only he’d be able to gather that many Wither skulls so easily!) Tommy chewed on his bottom lip and swallowed it back down.

“Oh. Helloo,” Techno drawled, his usual greeting, with the ghost of a smile. “Didn’t see you there.”

Tommy inhaled. Shakily: “What are you doing with those?”

Techno raised his brows, rolling the skulls against each other on his palm. “With what, Tommy?”

“With those – ” Tommy jerked his index finger towards them sharply. Techno slowly blinked and raised his hand. “Don’t act like you don’t know! What are you going to do with those?”

“These?” Techno lifted them, cradling the skulls against his cheek. “There’s not much you can do with three Wither skulls… you could, uh… spawn a Wither… or spawn a Wither… _or_ spawn a Wither…”

He wasn’t taking this seriously! “No, you bastard – ”

“No? You can’t spawn Withers?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about! You – ” No. He needed to be calm. (Don’t be reckless. Not like Wilbur.) Tommy breathed. “You’re spawning it during the festival.”

Techno lowered the skulls, down to his torso and shifting them slightly behind his back, like he was ready to keep them in a moment’s notice. His expression was flat. Unreadable. “I am.”

A fist balled. _Keep calm._ “It’s Wilbur. He told you to.”

The night breeze rustled the red cloak draped over Techno’s entire form, bristling of leaves filling the silence.

Techno tapped his chin. “Partially? He was the one who suggested it – ”

“Don’t do it,” Tommy hissed. His nails felt like they were digging tunnels in the palms of his clenched hands. “Don’t do it, Techno. It’s not right.”

A horse whinnied.

“What _is_ right and wrong, exactly?” Techno prompted, eyes lidded.

“There are going to be so many people there! If you spawn that thing, _and_ Wilbur detonates all that TNT, there’s going to be so much _death_ !” Tommy ignored how high pitched his voice was getting, how strained his throat felt. He _wasn’t_ high strung, he was calm. He was making – rational – “Look, Techno. Hand me the skulls.”

Techno tipped his head forward, pocketing the skulls in question. “I can’t do that, Tommy.”

Tommy’s fingers crept behind his back, towards the hilt of his axe. Techno’s eyes trailed after the action. _Rational._ “ _Hand me_ the skulls.”

“Tommy – ”

Barreling forward with an outraged cry, Tommy slipped his axe off his back, arcing it over his head and striking forward. Techno dove to the side, rolling and hauling himself up to one knee on the ground, one hand pressed on the ground and the other on his knee. The earth shattered where the blade of Tommy’s axe met with it, indented into the ground.

Giving no time to rest, Tommy lifted and swung again. Techno leapt backwards, tossing his arm to the left in the same motion – then disappeared. The momentum swung with Tommy and he stumbled forward to regain his balance.

“Your aim is _terrible_ ,” Techno called from a distance away. When Tommy turned his neck, he found the stupid pink bastard in his ridiculous royal garb on a tree, tossing an ender pearl in his palm. “I was only, mm, twenty feet away, maybe?”

“You pearled _away_!”

“Terrible aim.” Techno eyed the axe in Tommy’s grip. “Are you sure you want to be doin’ this?”

“I _don’t_!” Tommy protested, lowering his axe to wipe the sweat off his palms on his arms instead for a moment. No, he wasn’t anxious. “I just – you have to pass me the skulls, Techno!”

“I don’t _have_ to…” Techno muttered sullenly.

“Then this can only go one way – ”

Techno was gone.

 _Ender pearled._ Tommy raised his axe in defence, but before he could even survey his surroundings, impact crashed onto his side, tossing him sideways. The world was spinning – he was _rolling –_ until he collided with the scratchy bark of a tree behind him. He gasped for air as much as the feeling pierced his lungs, eyes cast for the next attack.

Techno was already in front of him. Flat, unsympathetic gaze, he stomped on Tommy’s elbow. A pained cry rang out and the axe, dropped from the shock, was scooped up and dangled triumphantly in Techno’s grasp.

“I didn’t even have to use the Axe of Peace,” he said pointedly, patting the blunt end of the axe against his other hand before flinging it a good distance sideways.

Tommy coughed, clutching the side that he’d been kicked at. That one _hurt_. Where was his axe? He glanced over. Everything looked blurry, but it was laying a ways from him. He had to grab it and… No, Techno was already walking back to the base – walking over to where he kept his horse. Tommy heaved forward – _ouch_ , his arm – Wilbur was going to – he had to stop Techno. But how? Did he have anything else on him that he could use for a fight –

No. He deflated. _Be rational._ He wasn’t going to kid himself; there wasn’t any way he was stopping Techno through one-on-one combat. This was just going to be another Wilbur situation. Play along until he found a crack he could break to victory. Stacking a Wither attack on top of bomb explosions… L’Manberg was going to be unrecognisable, even if Tommy could stop them. With it being this late, he wasn’t sure if he could get in touch with Tubbo, either. He’d just have to bide his time.

Tommy raised his head wearily. The faint outline of a fluttering red cloak in front of him was all he could focus on.

And in the distance, in the corner of his eyes, from far away –

– lights.

They had to be from L’Manberg.

He breathed.

Techno, two steps away from his horse, jerked backwards as something forcefully pulled on the edge of his cloak. He turned his head, then threw it back, Tommy’s haphazardly swung fist barely grazing his cheek.

“You don’t wanna be doing this,” Techno warned flatly.

“I don’t want _you_ to be doing this!” Tommy screamed, voice hoarse. The knuckle fisted in Techno’s cloak was stark white, the other grappling with Techno – for what, he wasn’t sure, he didn’t know, but – “You can’t spawn the Wither, you just _can’t_!”

“Hey, look, calm down – ”

“You don’t understand! You don’t understand – I gave _everything_ for L’Manberg! Dream, he owns _everything_ here, he told us to give up L’Manberg, I _stood by it_ , we had absolutely no chance, I knew it! But I built my whole life there, my house, the declaration of independence, _Henry_ – ” his voice warbled, “ – Wilbur, Tubbo – they were all I had, but now Tubbo’s under Schlatt, Wilbur doesn’t care anymore. If you take away L’Manberg, then I’ll – ”

He wrenched one of Techno’s wrists away. The Wither skulls were already kept. Whatever. Just stop him. Just stop him, he thought, wrestling with his other arm, feet rooted into the ground,

“I’ll have nothing left at all! I gave up my discs for L’Manberg! I gave up _everything_ for L’Manberg!”

Techno caught one of Tommy’s incoming fists, quietly staring down, then shoved him off. Tommy stumbled backwards, holding his arm and huffing.

“Ohh…” Techno trailed off. “Well.”

“What?” Tommy asked accusingly.

Techno looked very immersed in the grass patch in front of him. For a few seconds, he said nothing, then he folded his arms and cocked his head sideways.

“Well, you make a point. You have nothin’ now, and I’ve never made is a hobby to bully the less fortunate.”

Tommy spat, “ _Really_.”

“I’ve never bullied anyone in my life.” Unfolding his arms, Techno dusted off his cloak like he’d just tussled with a puppy. “And, I just thought about it. Blowing up a festival sounds appealin’, but you see, _I_ don’t actually get to stab anyone. The Wither will be the one doin’ the stabs, and there’s no fun in that.”

Tommy stopped. Breath hitching: “So… you’re not going to..?”

Techno folded his arms behind his back. “Probably not.”

He wasn’t going to. Tommy breathed. He wasn’t going to. L’Manberg was… it wasn’t safe, but…

He crumpled in on himself. _Breathe._ There was absolutely no hot liquid trailing down his face. Absolutely none. His nose was just running because it was cold. Definitely.

Through the blurred lines, he saw Techno shift awkwardly. “I don’t have any tissues on me.”

“I’ll wipe this on your cloak, you bastard.”

“I will have to charge you for each nanogram of liquid.”

Tommy wiped his eyes with his uninjured arm. Squatted and sat back on his haunches, puffing out a cloud of air, sucking back in his snot. After a few moments of collecting himself, he hoisted himself back to his feet.

“Alright, Big Man. Let’s do one of _those_ things.”

“‘ _T_ _hose_ things’?” Techno squinted.

“Those… you know what I mean. When people make promises. They do that – that _thing_.”

Techno puffed his cheeks and blew. “ _What_ thing, Tommy? You’re not givin’ me a lot to work with here.”

Tommy pulled away, and in an effort of demonstration, clumsily fumbled his fingers together. Techno peered at them the same way a cat would when their owner was fiddling with a collar. With one hand twisted upside-down, Tommy finally linked his two pinkies together.

“This thing. You know!”

Techno blinked at Tommy’s hands. Then up into Tommy’s eyes. Then back down at Tommy’s hands.

Then he chortled out a short bark of laughter.

Spluttering, Tommy undid his gesture and crossed his arms instead. “Why are you laughing? I am being _very_ serious.”

“Tommy, you have never ceased to prove that you are physically and mentally a _toddler_.”

“I am not physically a – I am the _same height as you, you_ – ” 

“Okay, fine.” Stepping forward, Techno outstretched his arms, all fingers curled except his pinky hovering in the air. “Pinky promise.”

Tommy huffed, angling away. “I don’t want to do it anymore with you. You called me a _toddler_.”

“Look, Tommy, you’re the one who asked for it, and here I am, even though you tried to stab me _multiple_ times, offerin’ my pinky – I don’t think you understand. Bein’ offered my pinky is a sacred honour. I have offered my pinky to only a select few, alright – actually…” Techno tilted his head musingly. “I haven’t offered my pinky to anyone before.”

The tension in Tommy’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “You haven’t?”

“I haven’t.”

His arms dropped. “Well – Well, I would be the first, then. The first to pinky The Blade.”

Techno nodded slowly. “The only thing you might ever be first for.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I don’t think I have ever marketed myself as a nice person.”

Without missing a beat, Tommy reached up and slunk his own pinky over Techno’s, looping over it and pulling snugly against the white fabric. For a brief moment, Techno stared at it. Then he suddenly jerked it into a tight interlock, throwing Tommy into a stumble, and _squeezed_.

Tommy felt like his pinky was going to burst. “Ow! What the hell, man? Stop that!”

“Blood for the blood god,” Techno said simply, then loosened his grip. “I was kiddin’. I will not spawn that behemoth during the festival. Pinky promise.”

Pinky still sore from the outburst of pressure on top of the sting from the bruise earlier, Tommy sniffed and righted himself. “Pinky promise. Well, it’s more like a piggy promise, isn’t it?”

Techno paused. “I suppose it is.”

Tommy brushed the blue-black mark that was forming on his arm. “Do you usually keep your words?”

Adjusting the crown that was already nestled perfectly in his head, Techno shrugged. “I keep my words very well. They are fed two times a day, sometimes six…”

Tommy scoffed, turning back to the entrance to Pogtopia. It was probably best to turn in early for the night. “Not you with your _numbers_ again.”

“I wasn’t – Tommy, do you ask people for the time and then complain when they reply? They say it’s _four-twenty_ , but those are numbers. Those are too difficult for you.”

“Yeah… no.” Wilbur hadn’t returned yet. Was he even going to at all? He could’ve been rigging L’Manberg with TNT at that very moment. “Are you coming in?”

Techno looked overwhelmingly ready to say no, which wouldn’t have surprised Tommy, since he always disappeared off every hour of the day doing _something_ or other. Maybe he was communing with his horde of cows. He wouldn’t put it past him. Then Techno blinked over Tommy’s face, dipped his head forward and scurried over to the entrance.

Tommy was quick to voice his surprise. “Oh, you actually are.”

“My potatoes,” Techno said quickly, and shortly. Then, slower: “I need to see how they’re doing.”

“Oh. Of course.”

As Tommy shovelled the dirt back into its place, Techno was already descending the stairs into Pogtopia. And when he could no longer hear his footsteps, Tommy caught a stuttering breath. He didn’t exactly know how, but he’d done it. There weren’t going to be any Withers in L’Manberg. Not tomorrow, and hopefully never. The situation was bad enough as it is. Wilbur letting go of L’Manberg and Dream helping him.

( _“Are we the villains, Tommy?” I don’t know. But I know what you are. You’re my friend._ )

Nothing had seemed like it was going right.

But at the very least, now he didn’t feel so alone about it.

**Author's Note:**

> lack of an intro or quality bc the festival stream is in 2 hours bye... I do not know if choosing to translate techno's way of speaking into writing was a good idea


End file.
